


The Domestication of Eric Cartman

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Category: South Park
Genre: Curses, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Drama, High School, Love Triangles, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: After Kyle and Eric hook up at Clyde's meteor shower party, they want to put the whole evening behind them. But a favour to Kenny and a run-in with the Cult of Cthulu leaves them to deal with an unforeseen consequence of their hook-up.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski/Heidi Turner
Comments: 20
Kudos: 52





	1. harmless experimenting

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, guys, I know what you're thinking because I'm thinking it too. What the hell is this? I don't know. I never, ever thought I'd write an mpreg fic in my life but here we are. Fun fact, this month is my 10 year anniversary of shipping Kyman and writing fanfiction and I can't believe I'm celebrating with an mpreg fic. But, hey, can I truly call myself a fanfic writer if I haven't written a trope such as this? This is a rite of passage!
> 
> I'm a bit nervous about this, because I know it's not everyone's cup of tea (honestly, don't know if it's mine either), but I hope those of you who are a little intrigued and willing to roll with this will enjoy! Thank you for reading, and I would love to know your thoughts!

Standing in front of his bedroom mirror as Stan peels a temporary tattoo off his back Kyle wonders if it's too late to back out of Clyde's dumb meteor shower party. Which, inexplicably, is a costume party. Perhaps Clyde thought he could get away with a costume party because it's October, but Halloween is a few weeks away yet. As far as Kyle is concerned, that's cheating. Anyway, the answer to his question is that it is most certainly too late because he has nothing else to wear, and Cartman and Kenny are already on their way to his house. While he resents his friends so much right now for putting him in this position, he still doesn't want to let them down or be the buzzkill. Another alternative is that he pulls the same stunt Stan did that one Halloween and attend the party via FaceTime and skateboard but it hardly seems worth it.

"There, all done." Stan smiles, clearly forced and trying to make the most out of the situation. "Do you wanna see what it looks like?"

Kyle sighs.

"Let me guess, it looks exactly how it looked in the pack."

As much he doesn't want to let his friends down he doesn't have to give them the satisfaction of trying to make the situation better either.

"Well yeah, but do you still want to check it out?"

"I'm good, except I hate this fucking costume," Kyle replies, arms wrapping around his exposed chest.

To be 'original' in Cartman's words, they decided to dress up as their wrestling personas from when they were into WWE all those years ago. Like most former fans, this is a phase Kyle is happy to leave in his childhood. He managed to find an adult-sized fit of the costume he ordered all those years ago, and also a pack of transferable tattoos that only children trying to be badass would ever wear (i.e. himself eight years ago). A black eagle adorns his chest, while a fiery skull sits on his right arm and some black vaguely offensive Maori design decorates his left shoulder and also his pecs. There was also a bigger, more badass eagle design that apparently couldn't be excluded that Stan has just stuck to his back. He's also wearing his hat he hasn't worn in years and if not for the tacky y-fronts he's wearing, the hat would be the tightest garment he has on.

Stan sighs wearily.

"Dude, it's fun."

Kyle really fucking resents that because in his black, leather waistcoat and jeans Stan looks decidedly cooler than he does.

"Easy for you to say, your outfit is as badass as a ridiculous costume can be but mine is..." Kyle looks over his reflection again and grimaces. "Fuck, why is it so revealing? Why did nine year old me ever wear this?"

"He probably didn't care how he looked."

"Nine year old Kyle has that luxury. He hasn't gone through puberty yet and didn't wear this in front of his classmates who will definitely judge him. I need to cover up." He turns away from his mirror to face Stan. "I'm gonna have to wear a jacket, right?"

Stan frowns, not so sure.

"I guess but I don't think it'll really add anything."

Kyle throws his hands up, already heading to his wardrobe.

"Of course it will, it'll add a layer for the cold and for my dignity, and also I'm gonna need somewhere to put my phone."

"I'm happy to hold your phone for you tonight," Stan says, approaching him. "I told you."

Kyle stops searching his wardrobe to look over his shoulder.

"You can understand why I'm a little reluctant about not having easy access to my phone."

"But I'm gonna be with you all night."

"Wendy's gonna be there, Stan."

Stan's silence tells Kyle everything he needs to know and he rolls his eyes before he continues his search for an appropriate jacket.

"Well, you can hang out with us? Isn't Heidi gonna be there too?"

"Ugh, I really don't want to talk to her if I look like this. I hope I don't see her."

Usually, whenever he thinks of Heidi, or sees her, or talks to her his stomach fills with butterflies, but the thought of seeing her tonight fills it with lead. He sees a lot more of her now she's joined Debate, and she's done the one thing Kyle has struggled to do - that is, putting all the shit Cartman put her through behind her. As she becomes more the smart, kind girl of before, the more Kyle's latent feelings resurface.

Kyle grins when he spies a red, fleece jacket. His tongue pokes out as he pulls it from its hanger.

"There!" He slips it on, and walks over to the mirror.

"Jesus..." Stan mutters. He has pinched the bridge of his nose, and is looking up from his fingers.

Kyle deflates immediately when he sees his reflection. He didn't think it was possible to look more ridiculous.

"It doesn't look that..." his shoulders slump. He doesn't have the energy to try to defend this. "No, it's terrible."

"Sorry, man."

Kyle huffs, pulling the jacket from his shoulders and throwing it to the floor. He grimaces at his reflection once more, in particular the terrible, tiny pants he's wearing. His junk feels all squished and his groin is itchy though he's not exactly chafing. He tries to adjust his pants as discreetly as possible.

"Dude, can you not?" Stan asks, turning his head and staring at the far wall. Clearly, he wasn't discreet enough.

"Sorry, I just feel like I'm gonna, you know, spill out. And I think my skin is irritated from where I shaved."

Despite Stan's complaints he scratches at his groin again, and his skin feels bumpy and a little hot. He shaved his groin purely to avoid the risk of his pubes sticking out of his tiny pants and that should have been his first indication to how uncomfortable he would feel wearing his costume.

"I'm starting to think this was a bad idea," Stan admits.

Kyle rolls his eyes and gives him an incredulous look.

"You don't say?"

"Kyle!" his mom calls up the stairs. "Eric and Kenny are here!"

Kyle groans. He's not ready for more people to see him like this.

"Oh god... okay, ma!"

Stan smiles at him, reluctantly encouraging.

"Shall we?"

Kyle nods, resigned to his fate. He throws his phone to Stan, who catches it and tucks it in his jeans pocket. They leave the safety of Kyle's room and trudge down the stairs to find Cartman and Kenny waiting for them. Kenny is in a generic Mexican wrestler costume, and much to Kyle's surprise Cartman is not dressed up like the Rad Russian but Bad Irene. He soon catches their eye, and he scowls and keeps his eyes on his feet as he descends the stairs. Kyle could see a glint of amusement in Kenny's eyes before he had the decency to try to smother his laughter. Cartman doesn't offer Kyle the same courtesy, and erupts with mocking cackles.

"Ha! Ha Ha! Oh my god, you guys... Kyle!" He wheezes, bent over and holding his belly. His body is thrumming with cackles. "Oh my fucking god!"

Kyle grits his teeth and balls his fists.

"I refuse to stand here and be laughed at when you're wearing drag!"

Cartman stands up straight, delicately swiping tears away from his made-up eyes. Much to Kyle's chagrin, Cartman's outfit is probably just as revealing as his but Cartman doesn't seem to feel the same discomfort Kyle does and actually looks rather impressive. He's wearing a hot pink lacy bra, black denim booty shorts, fishnet tights and knee-high, black vinyl boots. His already neat eyebrows have been plucked and drawn into a thin, dramatic line, and his face is caked in make-up; smoky eyes, and false lashes, and glossy, pink lips. It's all topped off with a voluminous, platinum blond wig.

"I'll have you know, ignorant asshole, that drag is not demeaning! But those briefs sure are!" He throws his head back as he cracks himself up again.

Kenny frowns, staring at Kyle's crotch with a scrutiny that makes him want to hide behind his hands.

"Are they even briefs?"

"No, they're more like speedos!" Cartman exclaims. "Are they speedos?"

"No, they are not!"

"Guys, they're clearly not speedos," Stan says, exasperated, giving Cartman and Kenny a warning look.

"Meanwhile, Cartman is clearly wearing a bra." Kyle sneers, folding his arms. If you don't feel good about yourself, putting others down is a guaranteed way to make yourself feel better. It's shitty, but it doesn't count if it's Cartman. "Is that your mom's, fatass? Or are her tits too small?"

No one laughs or comments, and Kyle's words hang rancid in the air. Stan looks embarrassed for him.

"Dude, Kyle..."

Kenny tuts and shakes his head.

"Over the line, man. I will not have Liane Cartman's breasts be besmirched like that."

Cartman nods, beaming smugly.

"Thank you, Kenny," he says, tossing some hair over his shoulder.

Kyle looks between Stan and Kenny who, frankly, are behaving treacherously. He scoffs in disbelief.

"If anything I was besmirching Cartman's..." he shakes his head, deciding it's wiser to not finish that sentence. "Never mind."

"Face it, Kyle, I am fucking rocking this look. Irene is badass, meanwhile in those speedos your ass just looks bad, honey."

Stan frowns.

"Really? Bad Irene is more badass than Rad Russian?"

Kenny arches a knowing eyebrow at him.

"Stan..."

"Yeah, I guess she was," he concedes.

Kyle looks between Stan and Kenny, indignant, and rolls their eyes where they can't see. Why are they indulging Cartman's narcissism?

"Exactly! It's in the name, guys. She was the original baddie." Cartman's eyes widen and his lips part as he seems to have an epiphany. He grabs Kenny's shoulder and sinks his acrylics in. "Oh my god, should I make Bad Irene an influencer? She should have her own Instagram account, right?"

Kyle glares at him, desperate to put him back in his place.

"Please shut the fuck up."

"Language, Kyle!" His mother scolds, bustling into the living room just to undermine him. "I just wanted to see your outfit before you... what, what, what!" She shrieks with horror. "Kyle, you're not going out dressed like that!"

Before Kyle can respond, Cartman bursts out laughing again and all his attention is diverted to glaring at him.

"This just gets better! Dragged by your own mom!" he chuckles. "Savage, Mrs B."

"Uh, thank you, Eric," she replies, and Kyle has never seen his mom look more confused as she processes Cartman's comment and his outfit.

Kyle sighs.

"Mom, it's just a costume."

"I know that, bubbe, but you're going out in just your underwear and you're going to be freezing! Can't you wear a coat?"

"We already tried it with a jacket, Mrs Broflovski," Stan explains. "It didn't work."

"We didn't try it with a coat though?" Kyle points out, trying to salvage any scrap of dignity he can.

"Kyle, dude, don't..." Stan pleads, but he's already heading over to the coat rack and grabbing his winter coat. He slips it on, and he doesn't know if it's the thickness of the material or everybody's horrified stare that's making him sweat. Right on cue, Cartman erupts into hysterics.

"I can't..." he wheezes, shaking his hand at Kyle like he's begging him to stop, when really Kyle would do anything to not be laughed at right now.

"How does it look?" Kyle asks. The question feels redundant, but there has to be some positive feedback, right? Even if it's only from his mom.

Stan shakes his head.

"Not great."

"It kinda makes you look-"

"Retarded," Cartman interjects.

"I was gonna say 'special' but yeah..." Kenny shrugs apologetically.

Kyle looks to his mother who is staring at him pitifully and chewing her lip.

"Mom?"

"Bubbe, I don't you want you to be cold..." she rubs his arm and tries to smile encouragingly at him. "But I also don't want you to look like a flasher either."

Kyle huffs, more stung by her words than he thought he would be. He folds his arms across his chest.

"Well, would you rather me freeze or look like a sexual predator?"

She shakes her head.

"Honestly, sweetie, I want neither."

Kyle growls under his breath, and throws the coat on the floor more violently than he did the jacket.

"Okay, the coat is gone!"

"I'm sorry I interfered, bubbe. You look terrific, all of you, maybe just try your best to stick together?"

Kyle rolls his eyes.

"We'll try." He looks at Stan and jerks his head towards the door. "Let's go."

"Have a good time, boys!" his mom calls as they all pile out of the front door.

Exposed to the cold, mountain air Kyle wraps his arms across his chest and tucks his hands into his armpits, both to protect himself from the cold and to also conceal his nipples that harden and shrink the moment he steps outside. His cheeks puff out as he exhales an icy breath, teeth chattering.

"Dude, are you wearing a cup?" Kenny asks.

Stan is stood behind Kyle and he places his hands on his shoulders and speaks directly into his ear.

"Kyle, there is a right way to answer this question but you have to be careful-"

"Why would I be wearing a cup?"

"That wasn't the right answer," Stan mutters.

Kenny glances between Kyle's face and his crotch, and smirks.

"Because your boys are in kind of, a, uh, precarious position."

Cartman chuckles in agreement.

"Yeah, you never know who might make a grab-"

"Cartman, what the fuck?!" Kyle yells when Cartman tries to grope him, swiftly dodging his hand.

Kenny and Cartman are both laughing, and Kenny bites his lip as he tries to do the same. Kyle leaps backwards.

"Kenny!"

Kenny chuckles.

"Come on, we're just messing around!"

"Playing 'grab-Kyle's-dick' is not fun! It's attempted assault!" Kyle snaps, before jogging ahead of his awful friends with his arms still wrapped around his chest.

Kyle is scowling as he walks ahead, not even acknowledging when his only decent friend catches up and walks alongside him. 

"Your dick looks tiny in those speedos!" Cartman shouts after him. "Like a little acorn!"

"I hate this," Kyle says through gritted teeth. "I hate it with more with each passing moment."

They soon arrive at the party, and it's enough to make Kyle collapse with despair when he realises the night has only just begun. They knock on the door, and Kyle keeps as far away from Cartman and Kenny and their immature, lecherous hands as he can. Clyde eventually answers, dressed like Mario. Kyle understands now why it took him a while to get to the door. Much to his disappointment, his house seems to be packed with partygoers.

"Hey, guys!" he grins. He purses his lips and frowns as he studies their costumes. "Um, who are you all supposed to be?"

"The Wrestling Takedown Federation," Cartman quickly answers. "If you don't remember, you had a terrible childhood."

Clyde frowns, slightly devastated that he can't remember and maybe he did have a terrible childhood. There is no 'maybe' about it though. He did have a terrible childhood. They all did.

"I don't remember that show. Token! Do you remember the, uh, Wrestling Takedown Federation?"

"Huh?" Token asks, managing to fight his way through the crowd. He's the Luigi to Clyde's Mario. He leans against the doorframe, and finally notices Kyle and his friends. He sighs. "Oh Christ..."

"I guess it was like a Saturday morning cartoon? Or a WWE thing? A WWE Saturday morning cartoon?"

"While that sounds tight as fuck, it was none of those things." Token narrows his eyes at them while he explains. "It was some game those guys played, and me, Butters and Jimmy were involved too, and we somehow became backyard wrestling sensations."

"Somehow?" Cartman asks, tossing some hair over his shoulder. "So my amazing writing had nothing to do with it?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" Clyde asks Token.

"I wanted to block it out. Like a fool, I thought I could forget." He looks over the stupid group costume once more. "This may be the most conceited thing you guys have ever done."

"I think you're giving us too much credit, Token," Kenny remarks.

Token nods.

"Probably..." he drifts away without a goodbye. Clyde looks after him, obviously eager to catch up to him.

"See you later, guys!" he says with a brisk wave before he disappears.

"Still regret doing this?" Kyle asks Stan as they step inside, and they attract a few confused, curious stares.

Stan smiles at him good-naturedly.

"With each passing moment."

* * *

Kyle is unsurprised but still disappointed to find himself alone at the party. It's no fun being the third wheel to Stan and Wendy, especially when their attempts to include him in conversation are pitying and patronising. He would hang out with Kenny but Kyle has no idea where he disappears to at parties. The four of them always arrive together but Kenny is always the first to splinter off without a word. Kyle considers that this is because out of the four of them, Kenny is the friendliest with their classmates. Kyle doesn't know where he would rank himself. This leaves hanging out with Cartman, which experience has taught Kyle isn't necessarily a bad thing. They always end up having a surprisingly good time together, just running out the clock with their usual bickering conversation until an appropriate time to leave. Kyle is coming to the conclusion that idiotic theme and costume aside, he really just doesn't like parties. Despite being alone, and bored, he doesn't seek Cartman out. Dressed as he is and given Cartman's attempt to grope him earlier, he thinks it's best to probably stay away. So now he's standing in the corner of Clyde's living room, trying to disappear into the wallpaper and preoccupy himself with drunken karaoke.

"Hey, Kyle!"

Kyle freezes when he hears Heidi call out to him. She's smiling and making her way over to him before he can pretend to not hear and walk away. He really didn't want her to see him like this.

"Oh, hey... " Kyle smiles weakly. He rubs the nape of his neck. "What's up?"

Heidi shrugs.

"Nothing much, I just saw you here alone and thought I'd keep you company. Where are the guys?"

Kyle sighs.

"I don't know, and honestly, I really don't care."

"Oh." Heidi nods. She winces as she asks, "rough night?"

"Well, I'm wearing this so..." Kyle tries to joke as he gestures to his outfit.

Heidi rakes her gaze over him and bites her lip. But not in the way Kyle has imagined her biting her lip around him. It's in a pitying 'I-don't-know-what-to-say' way.

"Very, uh, 'daring.'"

"That's one way to put it," Kyle mutters.

Heidi looks at him with dry, knowing expression.

"Come on, it's fun!" She shoves him and laughs. "I think you look great. I especially love this." She starts fiddling with the flap of Kyle's hat.

Kyle smiles, his face flushing and he prays it's not noticeable in the dim light of the room.

"Um, thanks."

"I haven't seen this in a long time..." a fond, slow grin unfurls across Heidi's face. "It's cute. You look cute."

Kyle's mouth scrunches up in a flattered, shy smile before he clears his throat.

"So what are you supposed to be?" he asks, scanning Heidi's outfit. "Besides the obvious."

She's wearing a blue and gold cheerleading uniform with a white roll-neck sweater underneath and white tennis shoes. Her top is emblazoned with a golden 'R' over a royal blue megaphone.

"I've seen a couple of the other girls wearing the same thing."

Heidi beams, and puts her hands on her hips.

"We're the Riverdale Vixens."

"The who?" Kyle asks, before it clicks. "Oh, you watch that show?"

Heidi shrugs, her enthusiasm waning a little.

"The first couple of seasons. I voted for the Clovers from _Bring it On_ , but this sparkled more with the other girls."

"Okay, I know who the Clovers are," Kyle replies. He's going to focus on what he does know, rather than what he doesn't. Like what the hell 'sparkled' means. " _Bring it On_ is a cheerleading movie, right?"

Heidi smiles, her enthusiasm picking back up again.

"Yes, it is. A big friendship group full of girls is kinda limited in its costume options. It was either cheerleaders or air stewardesses, and there isn't a whole lot of the latter in pop culture. So Clyde said you guys have come as wrestlers?"

"Yeah, I'm Juggernaut."

Heidi frowns.

"I've never heard of him."

"No, I made him up," Kyle replies. He can feel his embarrassment growing with every second, but something about the way Heidi is smiling at him encourages him to keep going. "We used to play wrestling when we were kids and he was my character."

Heidi nods, smirking.

"Well, you clearly have a lot of imagination," she says with a small, playful nudge.

They are interrupted by the sound of the karaoke starting back up again, and a few people cheering and clapping already for whoever has chosen to sing.

" _There ain't no reason me and you should be alone. Tonight, yeah, baby. Tonight, yeah, baby!"_

Kyle and Heidi are both drawn to Cartman, who is stood on Clyde's short coffee table and not even looking at the karaoke machine as he sings.

"Oh my god, is that Eric?" Heidi asks.

"Yeah..."

" _I need a man who thinks it's right when it's so wrong. Tonight, yeah, baby. Tonight, yeah, baby!"_

Everyone is going wild for Cartman and he's really throwing himself into his performance. He delicately runs a hand through his wig, and shakes his head to get the synthetic strands out of his face. His hands leave his hair and run down his swaying, gyrating body and Kyle can't tell if people are cheering and singing along to mock him or if they genuinely think he's good. Either way, Cartman doesn't seem to give a shit while Kyle is just embarrassed on his behalf.

Heidi is actually cheering too, and before Kyle can protest she's grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer.

"So who he's supposed to be?" she asks, grinning.

Kyle sighs.

"Bad Irene. She supposedly slept with all of us and was addicted to getting abortions. Cartman was also the Rad Russian but he used to dress up as Irene more."

Heidi chuckles, and nods knowingly.

"Yeah, sounds like Eric."

Kyle mimics her, though doesn't find it particularly funny.

"He's really good though," Heidi remarks, eyes drawn to him.

" _I'm on the edge of glory!"_ Cartman belts out, and it prompts the crowd to dance, bopping and jostling around Kyle. " _And I'm hanging on a moment of truth. Out on the edge of glory! And I'm hanging on a moment with you..."_

Cartman has stepped off the coffee table, and instead is stomping and bopping around it, shaking his hips and sounding a tad out of breath but everyone is mesmerised. Heidi is dancing and singing along, and Kyle can't stop staring. He feels like one of those storm chasers, staring into the eye of a hurricane or in this case, the tornado that is Eric Cartman in drag. He can't take his eyes off his chunky, fish-net covered legs, or his small cleavage glistening with sweat, or his glossy lips, and as soon as it crosses his mind that Cartman actually looks kind of hot, Kyle ejects the thought immediately and puts it down to the alcohol talking. Except he hasn't drank in an hour and doesn't feel very drunk at all.

When Cartman sings the bridge in a husky, honeyed tone he looks right at Kyle, like amongst all his twirling and dancing he somehow spotted Kyle's confusing, traitorous thoughts in the crowd.

" _It's time to feel the rush, to push the dangerous, I'm gonna run back to, to the edge with you, where we can both fall far in love!"_

Kyle gulps when Cartman finally tears his eyes away from him, but throughout the song they keep finding each other, like an unsettling portrait that always stares at you no matter where you stand in the room. The song comes to an end and the room seems to vibrate with applause. Cartman is panting and grinning as he soaks it all in, and he drops the microphone onto the coffee table. His eyes are cool and calculating when they find Kyle again, and he saunters over to him and Heidi.

"What's up, Kyle?" he asks, smug. "Heidi." He acknowledges her with a nod.

"Wow, Eric, that was amazing!" she gushes.

Cartman smiles, condescending.

"Thank you. Did you like it, Kyle?"

Kyle isn't going to gush. He narrows his eyes at Cartman, but it doesn't seem to succeed in making him even a little humble.

"I was pleasantly surprised," he says flatly.

That seems to be good enough for Cartman. His smile broadens a little, before Red, Bebe, Lola, Nellie, and Nichole (with pink, clip-on highlights in her hair) descend upon them, giggly and excited.

"Come on, Heidi, we're gonna go up now!" Bebe grins, giving Heidi's arm a tug.

"What?" Heidi asks before her eyes widen. "Clyde actually had the song?"

Bebe nods.

"Yeah, he got it especially for us!"

"Let's go, Heidi!" Red says, impatiently giving her arm a tug too.

"Okay!" She turns to Kyle before she's dragged away. She smiles. "See you guys later..."

"Sure." Kyle nods. "You look great, by the way!"

Heidi purses her lips, and the corners of her mouth pique upwards. Kyle waves at her before she disappears and is replaced by Cartman. He has an obnoxious, unsettling, Cheshire Cat grin on his face. Kyle grumbles and crosses his arms, trying not to look at him.

"Don't fucking try anything, Cartman."

"I'm not going to." He bites his lip as he eyes Kyle up and down. "You actually look pretty good, Kyle."

Kyle rolls his eyes.

"Don't patronise me."

Cartman huffs and raises his hands.

"I'm not patronising you!"

"Okay, girls," Red says into the microphone as her friends crowd around her. "Just like we practiced..."

Kyle waits until he catches Heidi's eye to give her a thumbs up. She nods and smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear.

" _Can't stay at home, can't stay at school,"_ Red sings. She's taking this as seriously as Cartman did, but following immediately after him she just sounds flat. " _Old folks say, 'you poor little fool.' Down the streets, I'm the girl next door."_

" _I'm the fox you've been waiting for!"_ The girls all sing in unison.

"I'm seriously, Kyle, you look really authentic," Cartman says, moving closer. "Is this the hat you used to wear?"

Kyle tries to ignores him, but bats Cartman's hand away when he starts tugging at one of the flaps.

"Knock it off!"

Cartman chuckles, undeterred.

"It is. I can tell. Although... Juggernaut never had a tattoo on his back."

"Huh?" Kyle asks, spine stiffening as Cartman idly traces his tattoo.

"Juggernaut?" Cartman replies, trying to be innocent. "He never had a tattoo on his back."

"How do you even remember?"

Cartman snickers.

"I kicked your ass enough times wrestling to memorise all your tattoos."

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Kyle snaps, shrugging away from him.

Again, infuriatingly, Cartman isn't fazed.

"Nothing." He smiles, eyes alight. "Nothing is the matter with me, Kyle. I feel on top of the world, like I can do anything!"

His hand is resting on Kyle's back again, moving down and causing the hairs on the nape of his neck to stand on end.

"Wuh-well, you can't." Kyle sputters. He feels like his brain isn't working, that Cartman is actually pulling on some invisible string that's controlling his thoughts and movements, and confusing them. "You can't just do anything you want."

"Tell me to move my hand then," Cartman whispers, leaning close to speak right into his ear.

Kyle can't, and Kyle thinks that Cartman knows that. He tries to focus on Heidi, but as much as it pains him to admit it, she's not as captivating as he was. Cartman was so alluring because it was so unexpected, he demanded Kyle look at him, challenging him in this new aloof way that Kyle couldn't resist. 

"Who are you kidding, Juggernaut, baby?" He coos, playing with the curls poking out of Kyle's hat at the nape of his neck. He twirls them around his finger and scratches at Kyle with his fake nails. It makes his eyelids heavier, like he's receiving a two-fingered head massage. "You've only got eyes for Irene-"

"Fuck off!"

Cartman huffs then laughs when Kyle shoves him away. He's burning all over and his already tight pants are growing tighter. He's seething, but when Cartman simmers down and brushes blond hair out of his face he looks hurt, and unsure as Kyle feels. Kyle is wracked with doubt, heart racing.

"Cartman, are you being serious right now?" he asks, looking straight into his eyes.

Cartman frowns, belligerent and stubborn. He huffs, before looking Kyle up and down as he considers his answer. Finally, he nods, face half-shielded by his wig. Kyle's throat tightens, his fingers flex and his cock twitches in his pants. It startles him, how much he wants this and he rips his eyes away from Cartman to focus on something else, hoping it will rattle the notion of actually hooking up with Cartman out of his head. He looks at Heidi, and she and the other girls - with the exception of Red - are swaying their hips, and clutching fistfuls of their skirts. They lift the hems up and bunch them at their hips, revealing that they're wearing matching blue underwear. They're all singing in unison once more.

" _Hello daddy, hello mom, I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!"_

Kyle can feel Cartman coming closer.

"I was wrong," he says. "Your ass looks pretty fucking great in those speedos."

Cartman smacks his ass, and it's the final straw. He grits his teeth, and takes a deep breath through his nose. They're doing this.

"God damn it, Cartman, fine..." he mutters, grabbing his wrist and leading him away.

Cartman doesn't speak until they're out in the hall.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere where nobody can see the obvious fucking boner in my pants right now..." Kyle replies, not even turning around to look at Cartman as they climb the stairs.

He can hear Cartman chuckle in disbelief and delight.

"I can't believe how easy it was to get you hard."

They're at the top of the stairs and Kyle spins around, thankful that the hallway seems to be deserted. He glares at Cartman, and has to smother his grin when he sees his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, when he shrinks back from Kyle and stumbles slightly.

"Yeah, you did a great fucking job, and now you're gonna finish what you started, understood?" Kyle is squeezing his wrist so hard he could probably break it.

Cartman nods, breath hitched and eyes gleaming, mesmerised.

"Yes," he replies, barely above a whisper.

Kyle doesn't respond, just looks around the hallway and leads Cartman in the direction of the first door he sees.

"Come on, in here."

The bedroom is dark, but luckily empty when Kyle flicks the lights on.

"Is this Clyde's room?"

"Looks like it," Kyle replies, breathless and impatient. His heart has never pounded like this before and it's frightening. "Just lock the door behind you."

Cartman obeys, and Kyle rewards him by pressing him up against the wall and smashing their lips together. He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent himself from freaking out about the fact that he's going to make out with Cartman, but when their lips connect, and clasp, and when their tongues meet it feels too good for Kyle to worry about whether or not it's right. Besides, this is not him kissing Cartman. This is Juggernaut fooling around with Bad Irene. His fingers get caught in icky, fake-feeling platinum strands and he wants to grip something realer, sturdier. He cups Cartman's jaw, before his hand slides behind his ear and feels where Cartman's actual hairline meets his wig. He grips the blond roots and tugs, soon coming into contact with tufts of his real hair. Kyle moans, pressing himself closer to Cartman and pressing Cartman harder against the wall. He rubs his boner against Cartman's groin, panting at the dry, denim friction. Cartman gasps, hot and sharp and hooks his leg around Kyle's hip. It encourages Kyle to thrust against him, and sink his fingers into Cartman's chubby thigh, hoping his fingertips will be embedded in his skin like the criss-cross branding of his tights.

Clearly, Cartman wants to touch Kyle's hair too. He pushes his hat off his head and grips his real curls, blindly grabbing fistfuls before sliding his hands down his shoulders and chest. He digs his nails in hard enough to peel away some of Kyle's tattoos, raking them over his chest.

Kyle has kissed all of Cartman's lipgloss off, and it's smeared on his own lips. He buries his face in Cartman's neck and laps, nibbles, and sucks at the sweaty skin. Cartman throws his head back and lets Kyle decorate his neck with hickeys. He moans, and buries his nails in Kyle's arms.

" _Fuck Kyle..."_

Kyle pulls back, startled by the utterance of his name. The illusion so easily shattered.

"Wait no, I thought this was..."

"What?" Cartman asks, panting.

Kyle tries to shrug, but he only succeeds in hunching his shoulders in embarrassment.

"I thought we were, you know... Juggernaut and Bad Irene..."

Cartman blinks, gaze wandering away from Kyle as he nods. He returns to him with a grin, biting his lip and tugging at Kyle's hair.

"Hell yeah we can be," he murmurs, before pulling Kyle to his lips. "I shouldn't be here, Juggernaut," he continues, fawning and breathless in his Bad Irene voice. His eyes are lidded, and he goes slightly limp in Kyle's arms. "Stan the Man would challenge you to an ultimate smackdown if he knew what we were doing..."

Kyle can't think of a response straight away, so returns to kissing and nipping at Cartman's neck and rubbing up against him. He's encouraged by Cartman's whimpers.

"Let him fucking challenge me," he growls into his neck. "I'll fight anytime, anywhere."

"But he's your best friend," Cartman replies in that same breathless, fawning tone.

"I don't give a shit. Besides, you knew what you were doing earlier..." Kyle mumbles darkly, resentfully because he's not pretending.

"I saw you staring." The smile is evident in Cartman's voice.

Experimentally, Kyle grabs Cartman through his bra, squeezing him and pushing his tits up to make an even more convincing cleavage. He kisses his way down his heaving chest, and Cartman's breath is hot and ragged above him.

"You drive me crazy, Irene," he murmurs, really getting into it. "You're so fucking hot..."

Cartman snickers, self-satisfied.

"I just can't leave you alone, baby."

Kyle places a kiss to the swell of Cartman's boob, and pinches and twists his nipple. Cartman yelps, and Kyle smiles against his sternum.

"Do you think about me when you're with him?"

Kyle looks up to see Cartman nodding, head thrown back against the wall and face creasing. His face feels sticky with sweat as he emerges from Cartman's chest.

"What do you think about?" Kyle asks, and before Cartman can answer he slides his fingers into his mouth.

He doesn't know what's come over him, and Cartman's wide-eyes stare suggests he doesn't know either. But they both want to roll with it. Cartman starts sucking Kyle's fingers obediently, cheeks hollowing and Kyle can feel his hot, embellished moans on his fingertips. Cartman holds Kyle's wrist, so he can control the tempo and also so he can talk.

"Mmm, I think about your big strong hands on me... " Cartman moans. "You give me such a wetty-"

"Don't say that." Kyle grimaces. "What the fuck?"

Cartman sucks at Kyle's fingers some more.

"And I think about you fucking me with your cute little acorn dick..."

Kyle scowls, and with his free hand twists Cartman's nipple again, harder.

"Ow!" he yelps in his own voice. "Motherfucker!"

"Keep going," Kyle commands, low and ragged. He's been absent-mindedly rubbing his crotch against Cartman the entire time. "He could never fuck you like I could."

Cartman moans in anguished agreement, face flushed and creasing as he continues to suck at Kyle's fingers, trying to match the indulgent tempo of which Kyle is fucking his throat. A smile flickers on Kyle's face whenever he hears him gag. Cartman grips Kyle's wrist and squeezes.

"Show me what I've been missing already," he pleads, dragging his tongue up the length of Kyle's middle finger before biting down hard on the index too.

Kyle extracts his fingers immediately, coated in saliva and shaking as he unbuttons Cartman's shorts and turns him around. Cartman huffs, both hands to the wall and Kyle notices his shoulders trembling. They both seemed so in control before, but the closer they get to the unknown the more jittery they become. Kyle tugs Cartman's shorts and fishnets down, revealing hot pink panties that match Cartman's bra.

"Jesus, Cartman..." he mutters, rolling his eyes but undeniably turned on by his choice of underwear.

He tugs his panties down and unceremoniously shoves his fingers inside Cartman. Kyle didn't expect him to be so tight, so hot, and Cartman's groans and pants as he stretches and explores inside him is making Kyle's cock strain against his pants.

"Ready?" Kyle asks after about 30 seconds of prep. He doesn't know if it's enough.

Nonetheless, Cartman nods, and whines when Kyle pulls his fingers out. As much as Kyle wants to nail him against the wall, he also wants them both to feel comfortable. He doesn't know how much experience Cartman has had, but this is all new to him. He leans in and brushes some of Cartman's blond hair away that has stuck to his face.

"You want me to see if Clyde has a condom?"

Cartman shakes his head, panting like he's been fucked already. He clears his throat.

"It's fine..."

Kyle nods, honestly a bit relieved he doesn't have to go rooting through Clyde's drawers.

"Okay, well, um, I'll make sure I..." his throat closes, refusing to say the damn word. It's ridiculous, that he's gone all bashful now. "Th-that I don't um... I-I'll pull out."

Cartman grumbles under his breath.

"Whatever. I don't care." He tries to toss his hair out of his face, and look over his shoulder at Kyle seductively. "Just fuck me raw, baby, like you always do."

Kyle gulps, pulling down his pants. His eyes widen at the swollen cock that springs out, achingly hard. He spits on his hand, and his eyes helplessly drift shut as he coats his dick in saliva. He has no idea where to put his hands, so settles on sinking his fingers into Cartman's fleshy hips as he guides his cock to his hole.

Cartman cries out as soon as Kyle pushes the head of his cock in, and Kyle starts to wonder if he needed more prep. His hole is stretching painfully around his cock, and Cartman's quick, sharp gasps as he enters him seem filled with both arousal and panic. Kyle is quite concerned with how hot he actually finds it.

"Jesus fucking-"

"Does that feel like an acorn?" Kyle grins, he can't help but be smug... or rock slowly into Cartman.

"No, fucker, it does not!" he snaps. "Shit, is your dick really that big or am I just really tight?"

Kyle smirks.

"A little bit of both, I would say." He blinks, becoming serious again. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Cartman pants. "No, just keep going..."

Kyle fucks him gently at first, and Cartman whimpers with every thrust. It soon encourages him to speed up and go harder until Kyle is pulling Cartman back onto his cock and his body is jostling with every thrust. Moans, and gasps, and whimpers are raining from his mouth.

" _Unnh, oh god, aaah fuck yes..._ "

Kyle's tongue was prodding at his lip, but now he grins and chews his lip as he pounds Cartman's ass.

"Do you like that?"

Cartman nods, whines.

" _Yes!"_ he cries. _"Juggernaut yes fuck me harder!"_

Kyle does as he's told, his own hand reaching for the wall to steady himself.

" _Aah! Aah more!"_

"Feel so good..." Kyle mumbles, breathless and hazy. "You gonna think about this next time you're with him?"

Cartman nods, and rolls his hips against Kyle, trying to impale himself.

" _Don't stop..."_ he pleads.

Kyle wishes he didn't have to, but he's about to cum and he promised he would pull out. His hand moves from the wall to tug at Cartman's wig, almost pulling it off his head. Cartman clambers desperately behind him to keep it in place and that one action is what inexplicably tips Kyle over the edge. He cums inside Cartman with a shout that snatches his breath.

" _Fuck..."_ Kyle gasps, riding out his orgasm out with long, slow thrusts. He groans, body slumping on top of Cartman. " _Fuck yes oh my god..."_

When he comes down from his babbling, panting, delirious high he realises he broke his promise. He sighs, buries his face in Cartman's wig.

"Shit, I'm sorry..."

Cartman's body is heaving below him.

"Don't care..."

"Did you..."

Kyle doesn't need to finish his sentence. Cartman shakes his head. Kyle peels himself away from Cartman's back to pull out of him. He turns him around, and Cartman's body feels boneless, like a dead weight. Kyle has never felt so hazy as he jerks Cartman off. Cartman keens to his hand immediately, summoning enough strength to grab the back of Kyle's head and force him to his lips. Kyle didn't think they would kiss again but they make out languidly until Cartman cums in Kyle's hand with a series of broken moans. Kyle pulls back, and wipes his sticky fingers on Cartman's bra. Before Kyle can retrieve his hand, Cartman catches it and presses it to his chest. Kyle is startled to feel his heart thumping, heavy and fast beneath his palm.

When Kyle looks up at Cartman, his wig is lopsided, his make-up has ran off his face and his skin gleams with sweat. He's pink all over and his eyes seem to have been almost devoured by his pupils in the dim room. Kyle doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to remove himself from Cartman's grip or stare. He's unsure what Cartman even wants from him. He gulps, swallowing hard, before reaching for Cartman's free hand and guiding it to his own chest, to place on his heart that's pounding loud in his ears.

A smile flickers on Cartman's face, infectious enough for Kyle to smile and laugh. In shock, they chuckle together in quiet hysterics.

"Was that your first?" Cartman asks.

Kyle nods.

Cartman blinks, rakes his wide eyes over Kyle.

"Damn, where the hell did that come from?" he chuckles.

Kyle shrugs, embarrassed all over again. He really doesn't know what came over him, or if he will ever feel that way again.

"I... I-I don't know. I just-"

"It was mine too," Cartman blurts out. His smile wavers slightly.

Kyle has no idea what to do with the information. He feels he should say something. Before he can, something seems to catch both their eyes. A quick, white flash. They look out the window to see the meteor shower happening without them. They watch in silence as an army of shooting stars marches by, and Kyle is left reeling at the peculiar, extraordinary events that he is living through right now. He's lost his virginity in circumstances he could have never imagined, he's kissed, and touched, and had sex with somebody he thought he would always hate, and all on the night of a rare, celestial event. He remembers Cartman's heartbeat mellowing in his hand and turns back. They both seem to remember themselves, their grips withering.

"This never happened, Cartman," Kyle says, grave. He retrieves his hand and holds them both to his chest.

Cartman nods, not looking at Kyle as he fixes his shorts and his wig.

Kyle takes a calming breath, before picking up his hat from the floor and putting it on. 

"I'm going home."

"That's a good idea," Cartman replies. "You really do look like someone who has just had incredible sex they never want to talk about."

Kyle doesn't comment, he doesn't know if Cartman is just making fun of him, or is actually pissed. So he just brushes past him to leave. He unlocks the door, but lingers for a second.

"See you around, Cartman."

Cartman nods, as if to reiterate it's fine if Kyle leaves. They can go their separate ways and never have to think about this incident again.

"Yeah, see you..."


	2. goodbye normal

It takes three weeks for everything to feel normal again. At least on the inside. Externally, Kyle has bounced back remarkably quickly. Or maybe it's not such a massive achievement. Kyle could be unconscious and he would still be able to bicker with Cartman. The rhythm of their conversations is comfortable but frustrating, and the scowls, the eye-rolls, the goading smirks, and grins are like muscle memory for them both. They agreed to put that night behind them, and when they're unified on something it's surprisingly easy to make it work. That's always the remarkable thing, that when in pursuit of a common goal they can be a pretty great partnership. Kyle is more than willing to acknowledge that, what he won't acknowledge is that they're pretty great at doing other things together too.

Obsessing, and freaking out about the night of their hook-up has reached its expiration date. Kyle's vivid dreams about that night have subsided, he no longer wakes up forlornly humping his mattress, and Cartman's hickeys have faded. In service of Putting It All Behind Them, Cartman wore scarves for the first week or so to conceal the collar of love bites on his neck. They did not suit him at all, but Kyle didn't rip on him. He was too appreciative of his effort to do that. They are now far enough removed from the incident that they can comfortably look each other in the eye again. The clock has reset to how it was before, and it's like it never happened.

Of course, Kyle can't kid himself that everything will ever be totally normal. That's not how it works around here. He can deal with the supernatural, the grotesque, the ludicrously weird, he just really doesn't want to deal with the interpersonal weird. He's on his way to class when he hears someone hissing at him. 

"Psst, Kyle! Hey, Kyle!"

He follows the noise to find Cartman (of course, the harbinger for most types of weird in his life), peeking out of the janitor's closet, and ushering him over with wide eyes.

Kyle frowns, and steps closer.

"What?"

"I need to talk to you!"

Kyle huffs.

"About what?"

"Get in here and I'll tell you!"

Kyle rolls his eyes, figuring he should just get this over with.

"Fine..." He trudges over to the janitor's closet, and bites back a yelp when Cartman grips his arm and tugs him inside.

Kyle forgoes yelling at him however, simply huffs once more in rising exasperation and smoothes down his clothes. He scowls at Cartman when he flicks the lights on.

"Okay, what is it?" his brows furrow when something occurs to him. "And how long have you been waiting in here, anyway?"

Cartman shakes his head, like Kyle is being the irritating, irrational one.

"Not important. I have to tell you something, and it's gonna sound crazy but you have to believe me."

Despite Cartman's wide, gleaming eyes, intense stare, and generally cagey body language, Kyle doesn't say anything. It's a promise made to trick him, one he can't possibly keep. Cartman huffs, and throws his arms up in the air.

"Well?"

"What?" Kyle asks, folding his arms.

"Are you going to believe me?"

Kyle narrows his eyes at him, face creasing with incredulity.

"What kind of question is that? You can't ask me if I'm going to believe something before telling me what it is! That's a bullshit promise-"

"I'm just looking for reassurance, here."

"By pressuring me into blindly believing something?"

Cartman looks to the ceiling, bringing his hands to his face.

"Christ, why do you always get hung up on the most minute shit?" he asks, partially concealed by his palms. He's dragged them down his face and it looks like his skin is melting off.

"Why do you have to make everything ten times harder than it has to be? You could have just spat it out by-"

"I think I'm pregnant!" Cartman blurts out, so fast that Kyle is sure he's misheard.

"You think you're... what?"

Cartman's face is grave, and he gulps and looks down at his shoes. Kyle just stares, bewildered, waiting for Cartman to repeat himself. His cheeks have flushed when he looks up, totally not complimenting his pulled back jaw and stern mouth.

"I think I'm pregnant," he mumbles. His face seems to crack, like there's pressure building below the surface. A desperate kind of pressure. He steps closer. "I know it's crazy-"

"Cartman, no," Kyle warns, stepping back. He knows exactly what this is and he's not falling for it, he's not giving in. "No, I'm not getting dragged into this again! That night was..." he purses his lips, sighs through his nose. He doesn't want to talk about that night more than what is necessary. "It was fun, okay? But you're not extending this roleplay any further. You're not Bad Irene, I'm not Juggernaut, you're not doing the whole 'addicted to abortions' shtick right now, so fucking drop it!"

Kyle shoves him, annoyed and disappointed that Cartman is letting him down like this, ruining the normalcy they've been trying to restore.

"This isn't roleplay! And, excuse me, _dragged?_ _You_ took me upstairs, and you were pretty fucking eager!"

Kyle scowls, avoiding Cartman's eyes.

"I'm not talking about this anymore! I don't know what joke you're playing, but it's idiotic and definitely not funny! So can I just-"

"No! Kyle, wait!

He tries to leave, but Cartman blocks him, gripping his shoulders and forcing Kyle to look at him.

Kyle huffs, struggles, panic rising inside him.

"Let go of me!"

"Will you just listen?" Cartman pleads, with the grip to match. He sighs, looks into Kyle's eyes and he can tell he's trying to be serious, measured. "I know it's crazy, but I really do think that something is going on! It doesn't feel right."

Kyle's panic is subsiding, but his breaths are still coming in terse, flustered pants. He frowns, helpless.

"What doesn't feel right?"

"My body! I've never felt like this before!"

"Like what?" Kyle asks, wary. He takes the opportunity to slip out of Cartman's grip as it grows lax.

"I don't know!" Cartman exclaims, running a flustered hand over his face. "I just... I-I-I feel exhausted, and irritable, and bloated-"

"Right, like you've never felt like that before," Kyle cuts in, because he has known Cartman to be all of those things.

"Okay, maybe but I've been nauseous too, and my nipples-"

"Jesus!" Kyle cries, squeezing his eyes shut to force out the image of Cartman's nipples. "Fuck, I get it!" He keeps his eyes closed, and takes a long, deep breath. He's going to be the measured one now. He opens his eyes to see Cartman, freaking out over the utterly ridiculous. "I'm not indulging you for even a second because these could just be symptoms of something else you should see a doctor about but... have you even taken a pregnancy test?"

"No..." Cartman mumbles, looking away.

"Why not?" Kyle can't help but snap. He pulled him in here, has made these wild claims and he doesn't even have any proof!

"I don't know! I don't fucking know, Kyle! Because I never thought I'd have to? Because I'm only just starting to accept this might be fucking happening to me, and I'm freaking out!"

Kyle looks around the room, leg jittering with impatience because he doesn't know what to say and he hates when that happens.

"Well... you shouldn't freak out until you know for sure, and you definitely shouldn't be telling people, least of all me! There are a million other logical explanations for this. Surely you didn't fail biology that hard to not realise how impossible this all is?" he raises his eyebrow.

"But I..." Cartman sighs, powerless to argue against Kyle's scepticism, fucking _common sense_. "No, I didn't," he mutters.

Kyle takes a small, relieved breath and tries to smile reassuringly.

"Right. Consider those options first. I have to go."

He brushes past Cartman and opens the door to leave, hit with an unnerving deja vu. He lingers, looks at a confused, bewildered Cartman just stood there. He feels bad for being dismissive, but how can he entertain something so absurd? Still, Cartman's panic can't help but rub off on him.

"Cartman?"

"Yeah?" he replies, looking over his shoulder.

"Since the night of the party, you haven't hooked up with anyone else, have you?"

Cartman frowns, turns around to face him.

"No, why?" He grins. "Scared you might be a daddy?"

Kyle rolls his eyes to the ceiling, hoping it disguises the tiny, irrational freak-out that's happening in his head right now and is all Cartman's fault.

"No, I just-"

Cartman's grin broadens, and he steps closer.

"Are you jealous?"

"No!" Kyle recoils. "No, god no, forget I asked! Don't ever mention this to me again!"

He storms off before Cartman can say anymore, and he doesn't look behind him, vowing to not think about it. Kyle thinks that will be easy enough, how could he get hung up on something so ridiculous?

* * *

Turns out, he could very easily get hung up on something so ridiculous. He thinks about Cartman being... _Cartman's theory_ for the rest of the day, and spends most of his evening researching. It's frustrating rather than fruitful, and when he searches 'can cis men get pregnant?' the answer is a resounding, expected no. So he tries a different tact, looking up early signs of pregnancy and the symptoms listed match a few of what Cartman described. Of course, the symptoms Cartman described could be linked to numerous other conditions too, but if Cartman is good at anything it's manipulation and this seems to be no exception. His paranoia is contagious, leaving Kyle thoroughly panicked when he finally goes to bed.

The next day, after some much-needed sleep, Kyle feels a little stupid that he spent so much energy worrying about this, but he still can't shake the thoughts of pregnancy and potential parenthood out of his mind. He vows to keep an eye on Cartman for the rest of the day. The symptoms he researched are now ingrained into his brain, and he's going to keep them in mind like a mental checklist, ticking off and ruling out each one as he observes Cartman.

This is easier said than done, as so many of the symptoms are not external and Kyle isn't with Cartman all day. One symptom he _is_ observing now is fatigue. Cartman has been slumped at his desk, cheek squished against his palm for the entirety of their English class. It's not as if Kyle has been concentrating either, he's been focused on Cartman for the hour. Cartman seems too wiped out to even comment on that. Kyle notes that he was also falling asleep, poised exactly how he is right now in fact, in Stan's car on the way to school this morning. Kyle tried to put this down to the time of day, now he isn't so sure.

He jolts when the bell rings, pulling him out of his thoughts. Everyone else gets up and gathers their things, and their teacher reminds them all about an assignment before they leave, but Kyle isn't listening. He's more interested in Cartman, who is definitely fast asleep and about to faceplant the desk.

"Cartman!" Kyle hisses, before shoving his shoulder. "Cartman!"

"Huh?" Cartman grunts, eyes opening.

"We can go now. It's lunch."

Cartman nods with a sleepy scowl, he wipes away the gleaming drool from his lip and packs his stuff away like he wasn't just openly napping. He looks pale, and woozy. He soon glances at Kyle, wary with brows furrowed.

"What?"

Kyle blinks, he didn't even realise he was staring at him. He hurriedly shoves his belongings in his bag and gets up.

"Nothing, I just, um..." he fiddles with the straps of his backpack. "Are you alright?"

"I thought you didn't care," Cartman mumbles, getting to his feet and shoving past him without a second glance.

Kyle scowls at his back, bumping the desk as he hurries after him.

"Of course I care!" he snaps. "Just because I don't believe you doesn't mean I don't care."

"Wow." Cartman smirks, sardonic. "The words everyone wants to hear in a crisis."

"I don't see how you can be so incredulous about this, how do you expect me to believe this?"

"I don't know!" Cartman snaps, finally looking at him. _Glaring_ at him. "But it would be nice if somebody could believe it and since this may be partially your responsibility too-"

"What?" Kyle cuts in, his voice has reached an irate octave that he hates. "Cartman, trust me, if there was any part of this that made any logical, rational sense, I would be taking responsibility, okay? But your delusions are not my fault!"

"God, I wish I never fucking told you!" Cartman yells, before storming off.

Kyle huffs, both annoyed at himself and Cartman but he still jogs after him. He catches up to him as they enter the cafeteria, and he grabs his shoulder.

"Cartman, wait-"

"Hey, Eric!" Butters calls from the hot food line, waving him over.

Cartman frowns at Kyle over his shoulder and shrugs his hand away, making his way over to Butters. Kyle sighs, hangs his head, but follows him regardless. They're both scowling as they take their place in line, neither of them wanting each other there. Their bad moods clearly have an effect on Butters, his smile wilts and he looks between the both of them with gleaming, concerned eyes.

"Jeez, Eric, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Butters, I'm fine!" Cartman snaps, in a totally not fine way.

"You sure?"

"Yes!" Cartman crosses his arms. "Kyle is just being a fucking asshole, so nothing new there..."

Kyle clenches his fists.

"I can hear you!"

"I know." Cartman sighs, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, come on, fellas, it's sloppy Joe day!"

"Great..." Cartman mutters, the least enthused Kyle has ever seen him on sloppy Joe day. He and Butters still get as excited about sloppy Joe day as they did when they were kids.

"It sure is!" Butters grins, wilfully oblivious in trying to keep their tradition alive. They are graduating in a few months, there are only so many sloppy Joe days left. "Aren't you going to do the dance, Eric?"

"Oh god..." Cartman groans, placing a hand to his belly.

Kyle frowns, noticing that some students are walking past them with their sloppy Joes, the smell lingering behind them. He leans in closer to Cartman, his pale face almost tinged green.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Cartman nods.

"Uh-huh. I'm just... hungry for sloppy Joes, right, Butters?"

Butters perks up, and he reminds Kyle of an easily pleased puppy.

"Sure am, buddy!" he grins, bouncing on his toes. "Come on, do the dance!" Butters gets started, hands curled into fists and shaking his shoulders. "It's sloppy Joe day! It's sloppy Joe-"

Butters is cut off by Cartman throwing up on him. There are a few horrified gasps, and the students in front of Butters leap out of the way. As much as he would hate to admit it, Kyle is mortified. Cartman's words ring in his ears.

_Partially responsible._

"Oh my god!" Butters cries.

Kyle can sense that Cartman is unsteady on his feet, his breathing is ragged and he places a hand on the wall.

"Shit, Cartman, are you alright?" Kyle asks.

Cartman looks over his shoulder, woozier than he's looked all day.

"Do I look alright?"

"Come on, let's clean you up," Kyle mutters, not even thinking about Butters or anybody else as he grabs Cartman's wrist and leads them away from the cafeteria.

He turns around to see that thankfully, someone has come to Butters aid with paper towels. It assuages his guilt, somewhat.

Kyle marches them to the bathroom, shepherding Cartman into a stall and immediately locking the door behind them. Cartman sits on the toilet, burying his head into his hands. Kyle frowns, before chewing his lip. He wraps his arms around himself as he contemplates what he needs to do next. Feeling sorry for Cartman is nothing new to him, but comforting him in such a manner when he's so clearly vulnerable is.

"Do you feel like throwing up again?" he asks, trying to be practical.

Cartman lifts his head from his hands. His eyes are bleary, his face is still drained of colour.

"No... not now I'm away from the cafeteria." He grimaces. "The smell..."

Kyle notices he has some vomit on his chin.

"Here..." he murmurs, ripping off some toilet paper and crouching down to wipe Cartman's face.

The toilet paper makes contact with his chin for about a second, before Cartman snatches it away from Kyle and cleans himself up. Probably for the best. Kyle flushes when he questions why he even tried to clean him up in the first place. He stands up straight.

"Has this been happening with other foods too?"

"Yeah, my mom's chocolate chicken pot pie."

Kyle wrinkles his nose.

"That should make you throw up. It's disgusting."

"Maybe, but I used to love it."

Kyle braces himself for what he's about to suggest. He knows it's dumb, and he knows it's indulging Cartman in his absurd theory, but if he indulges Cartman and logic prevails, then at least they can both stop being so paranoid. At least then they can truly put what happened at Clyde's party behind them.

"I think we should get you a pregnancy test. Actually, a few to make absolutely sure."

Cartman raises his eyebrows, before a smug smile spreads across his face.

"So you believe me now?"

"No, I just... I told you to consider all the options, so we should consider this option too. There's no harm in checking it out, and at least this way we'll know."

Cartman nods, disgustingly still clutching the dirty piece of toilet paper and fiddling with the corners.

"Are you up for going to the pharmacy?"

Cartman blinks.

"What, now?"

Kyle nods, this can't go on any longer. Cartman may be scared, but he's involved Kyle now and Kyle isn't going to let him stew in this strange limbo of paranoia and blissful ignorance.

"Then sure," Cartman replies, he seems to be emboldened.

"Okay, let's go."

* * *

Kyle didn't speak to Cartman much on the way to the pharmacy, but it's not as if Cartman was trying to make conversation either. He was chewing his fingernails and Kyle was scowling at the sidewalk in between stealing glances of him, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head although Kyle could guess it was pretty similar to what was running through his mind too. How did this happen, and what will they do next, how did this happen, and what does it mean, and how the fuck did this happen?! How is it that Kyle is staring, transfixed, at a shelf lined with pregnancy tests stood next to Eric Cartman.

"Do you think we have enough?" Cartman asks, and there's an edge to his voice. He's trying to make light of it all, but Kyle ponders his question. He looks at the eight pregnancy tests Cartman is holding right now, and decides no, it's not enough.

"Probably not," he replies, before grabbing some more.

"Dude, fuck, Kyle, I was kidding!" Cartman laughs, with panic in his voice now. He huffs as Kyle shovels about twelve more into his hands. "We're good!"

"No, Cartman, we are not good! This is the opposite of good!"

"I'm sure nobody buys this many," he points out. "It's a little excessive."

Kyle huffs.

"Well, we're not like everybody else! This is being thorough, not excessive."

Cartman huffs too, sulking.

"Whatever, I'm not fucking paying for all these."

"Fine!" Kyle snaps. "I will!"

The transfer is exasperating and clumsy, but ultimately successful. Kyle doesn't drop any on the floor. They head to the counter and Kyle wishes he could rub his face or run a hand through his hair to relieve some of the frustration bubbling inside him.

"So if you're my baby daddy you gonna buy more stuff for me?"

Kyle turns around, and Cartman's smirk withers into a tiny, remorseful frown under his glare. Making jokes may be Cartman's way of dealing with this, but Kyle does not find it funny, or helpful at all. He has his own way of dealing with stress, and he will not let Cartman selfishly encroach on his method.

"This isn't funny, and I will break your fucking head open if you refer to me as your 'daddy' in any context again, understood?"

Cartman's eyes roam his face, and he gulps audibly. Kyle is satisfied he's got through to him, but then a smirk flickers on his face. He clears his throat.

"You know, asking me questions like that got us into this predicament."

"There's no predicament!" Kyle exclaims. "Everything is going to be fine! I'll pay for the tests, you get some water. You're going to need a lot."

"I don't know, I've been pissing like a fucking racehorse lately," Cartman murmurs, shoulders drooping as he trudges over to the beverages and snacks.

Kyle watches him walk away, trying to shake the 'frequent urination' symptom out of his mind, but it's hard to put any of this out of mind when he's standing in the middle of an aisle holding 20 fucking pregnancy tests. He pays for the test, wilfully ignores the pharmacist's strange looks, and he and Cartman return to school to take them... well, for Cartman to take them.

The boys bathroom is thankfully empty when they sneak in there, and Kyle exchanges tight, uncomfortable smiles with Cartman as he slips into the stall.

"I'll be out here," Kyle says, leaning against the partition between the stalls. "Call me if you need anything."

"What?" Cartman asks, poking his head out. "You're not gonna come in?"

Kyle removes himself from the wall, and stares at him incredulously.

"Why would I wanna watch you piss?"

"It'll look suspicious if you just stand out here."

"And two people standing in a stall clearly not using the bathroom won't look suspicious?"

"One of us will be! Please, Kyle!" Cartman whines, face creased and pleading. "I'll have my back to you, anyway!"

"God damn it, fine..." Kyle mutters, wiping the triumphant smile from Cartman's face by shoving him in the stall.

He locks the door behind them, and tries to put his sudden clamminess and nausea down to claustrophobia, of being stuck in here with Cartman and not on what taking the tests could actually reveal. He doesn't say anything, or even look at Cartman as he fiddles with the packaging and pulls one of the tests out of its box.

"Read the instructions for me?" he asks, shoving the leaflet and the stick into Kyle's chest before he can respond.

"Fine..." Kyle sighs. "'Remove the plastic cap to expose the absorbent window' okay... 'point the absorbent tip directly into the urine stream' okay, that's your job..." he says, grimacing as he hands the test to Cartman.

He snatches it from Kyle.

"Thanks."

Kyle takes that as his cue to turn around. He hears Cartman unzipping his fly, and the steady stream of his piss. He's wrapped his arms around himself, and is clutching at the material of his jacket, wincing and hating every minute of this.

"How long have I gotta pee for?"

"I don't know!" Kyle snaps. "As long as you can! Wait..." he checks the instructions. "At least ten seconds."

"Got it. Argh, fuck! Does it tell you how to do it without pissing all over your hand?"

Kyle grimaces, and looks to the ceiling. He doesn't talk to God that often, but he's close to pleading with him to get him out of here... oh, and for Cartman to not be pregnant too.

"No, it doesn't! God, just aim!"

"I'm trying!"

Kyle wrinkles his nose.

"Ugh, I bet you piss all over the rim when you're at home..."

"Damn it... there," Cartman says, and Kyle can hear him zipping his pants up. "Now what?"

Kyle looks over his shoulder to see Cartman limply holding the stick, totally lost. He consults the leaflet.

"You have to re-cap it... here..." Kyle hands Cartman the little cap he had been clutching this whole time, that was digging into his side when he was gripping his jacket. "Put it on a clean, flat surface and wait five minutes."

"Okay..." Cartman looks around the stall. "There is no clean, flat surface in here. The top of the toilet tank will have to do."

Kyle sets a timer on his phone for five minutes. Cartman puts the lid down on the toilet and sits, wringing his hands between his knees and Kyle returns to his cross-armed position, leaning against the door. In the silence, in the horrible purgatory of waiting, Kyle can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and now that all they have to do is pass the time, the adrenaline has turned into chattering, panicking, taunting thoughts of the worst happening.

"So, um... what if it's positive?" Cartman asks.

Kyle blinks, surprised. He didn't think he would be the first to actually address that. He knows Cartman must be thinking about it, but it's both unnerving and relieving to hear him ask the question.

"That doesn't mean anything. Nobody ever takes just one pregnancy test, right? No, you take more. To be sure."

Cartman nods, still wringing his hands and now rubbing his lips together.

"How many should I take?"

"All of them! But..." Kyle checks his phone. "I really can't miss next period."

"That's what she said."

"What?" Kyle asks, distracted.

Cartman squirms, actually flushes and his hands become a lot more fidgety.

"Nothing just..." he rolls his eyes and avoids Kyle's stare. "A pregnancy joke."

"Oh." Kyle nods. "Ha ha."

Cartman narrows his eyes at him.

"You didn't exactly set me up for it."

"I didn't even realise I was supposed to! Point being... if we have to wait five minutes for each test, then I guess we can only take, like, twelve right now-"

"Why?"

Kyle blinks, suddenly feeling hotter and his face is burning.

"Oh, I just... I-I-I thought you wanted me here." He looks into Cartman's eyes. "You're okay doing this alone?"

Cartman sighs, hangs his head.

"No," he replies, looking up. "I'm barely okay doing this with you."

With their vulnerabilities laid bare, they actually have the courtesy to not look at each other.

"Well... we bought twenty, right? How about we do half now, and then the other half later?" Cartman suggests.

"Alright...makes sense. That is, if we need to take twenty of them."

"Exactly!" Cartman smiles, with shaky, forced optimism. "I mean, it could be negative right?"

Kyle nods again, also shaky and forced.

"Sure."

"If this one is negative though..."

"Take another one. For posterity's sake..." his eyes widen when he realises what he just said. "Oh god, did I just..."

"You just set yourself up! Why couldn't you do that for me?"

"It wasn't intentional!"

A couple of minutes later Kyle's timer goes off and they both jump at the forcefully chipper tone. Given the circumstances, it feels ominous and mean. Their eyes meet warily, and Cartman doesn't tear his gaze away from Kyle until he picks up the pregnancy test. He slumps against the wall. Kyle can feel the dread rising inside him, choking him.

"What is it?"

"Two blue lines is-"

"Positive," he cuts in gravely. "Okay, try another one."

Kyle can't reach into the bag fast enough to get another test. He opens the box with shaky hands before giving it to Cartman who seems to be moving in slow motion.

"Now!" he snaps, when it seems like an eternity has passed and Cartman still hasn't taken the test yet.

"Okay, okay! Fuck..."

Kyle turns his back, foot tapping against the grimy tiles as he listens to Cartman unzip his fly once again.

"Well? I don't hear peeing!"

"Because I just went a few minutes ago! My dick is not a fucking faucet!"

Kyle rolls his eyes.

"Alright, when we're waiting for a result you're going to drink some water in between."

A few seconds pass and Cartman zips himself up again.

"There..."

Kyle sets the timer before giving a bottle of water to Cartman. They don't talk much during the five minutes, and it's like a punch to Kyle's stomach when the second test also turns out positive.

They take eight more, and Kyle is tapping his foot, unable to take his eyes off the timer as it counts down the final seconds. He needs to go, and he has to get out of there for the sake of his sanity. The crushing disappointment and the mounting fear is brutal. He breathes a quiet, relieved sigh when the timer goes off.

"Time's up. What does it say?"

Cartman looks bored and weary as he picks up the test. He stares at the wall for a few seconds, avoiding Kyle completely before he gives the result.

"Positive again..."

Kyle hangs his head, hoping to both disguise his disappointment and dread and also protect himself from it altogether. He just wants to curl up into a ball and not have to face it until this is all over. Whatever 'over' means.

Cartman steps closer.

"Kyle, it's really starting to look like-"

"No, it's not!" Kyle snaps. If delusional Cartman is talking like this, then what hope is there for him? "We've only taken half the tests!"

"I've taken ten fucking pregnancy tests in a row and they all have the same result! It's clear what's going on here! When are you gonna accept it?"

"Until you've taken all of them!" Kyle checks his phone. He's going to be late to class. "I really have to go, but we'll go to your place after school and try again..." he frowns as he surveys the discarded pregnancy tests. "I don't know what you're going to do with those positive ones though."

Cartman shrugs.

"Throw them in the trash."

"No, you can't! Somebody could find them!"

"Alright, then..."

Kyle gasps in horror when Cartman starts shoving the positive tests in the pocket of his hoodie.

"That is fucking disgusting! What are you-"

"Relax, Kyle! I'm just gonna put them in my locker for the time being, chill out!"

Before he can slip out of the stall, he places a hand on Kyle's shoulder and squeezes.

"Seriously," he murmurs, looking into Kyle's eyes imploringly. "It'll be okay..."

Kyle doesn't know if it will, but he understands what Cartman is trying to do, so he nods. His eyes wander to the hand on his shoulder and something occurs to him.

"Is that the hand you were holding your dick with or the hand you were holding the tests with?"

Cartman sighs, ducks his head and Kyle swears he saw him smiling.

"See you later, Kyle..." he taps his shoulder before he leaves the stall.

Kyle somehow manages to make it through last period without having an anxiety attack, even if his attention is far away from calculus. When he sees Cartman in the halls as classes files out their eyes meet, both determined and wary and Kyle is fuelled by the adrenaline that has barely managed to keep him together so far.

They go to Cartman's house and lock themselves in the bathroom, this time armed with a garbage bag for the used pregnancy tests. Kyle is sat on the rim of the tub, watching Cartman chug a bottle of water, not even coming up for air.

"Ready to try again?" Kyle asks once he's finished.

Cartman wipes his mouth and nods with a steely stare. He tries to crush the bottle on his forehead. His hand slips a couple of times and his face is scrunched up and red when he finally somewhat succeeds. He throws it in the tub.

"Ready."

Kyle chuckles, grateful for any relief, before handing him the pregnancy test and twisting his body to face the wall while Cartman does his thing.

"You know, this could be a great way to get over your urine phobia..."

Kyle doubts it. If there's one thing he doesn't feel, it's at ease.

"No, I still feel extremely anxious."

"Really? I was starting to think you were getting kinda into it."

"What?!" Kyle exclaims, looking his shoulder only slightly.

"You were barking orders at me pretty hard in the bathroom earlier, and people do have a thing for piss. Just thought you may have discovered a new kink, that's all."

Even if he is getting better at blocking out the sound of Cartman peeing, Kyle shakes his head and shudders.

"Absolutely not."

"Test eleven is done."

Kyle nods, with whatever scrap of hope he has left.

Soon, they're nineteen positive tests down altogether with only one to go. Kyle feels like all his insides are clenched but his body is shaking uncontrollably. He hasn't even asked Cartman how he's feeling about all this because talking about it would be admitting what's so clearly obvious, unavoidable. Although he can tell this has taken a lot out of them, drained them of rationality and hope. Cartman is leaning above the toilet, one hand to the wall and wincing through another bottle of water. It's incredible he's been able to produce this much urine, but Cartman isn't a stranger to gross, bizarre displays of physical endurance (like ingesting massive amounts of fake treasure). Although after listening to him pee all afternoon, Kyle knows that he had to try extremely hard to squeeze even a couple of droplets out on occasion. He hates the fact that he knows this. Cartman roars in anguish and triumph once he's finished his water, throwing the bottle into the tub like he has all the other discarded bottles. It narrowly misses Kyle's head. He picks it up and places it in the garbage bag with the others.

"Dude, have you ever noticed how fucking gross water is?" Cartman asks, panting. "I'm never drinking it again after this."

Kyle blinks, startled out of his thoughts by Cartman's voice.

"Yeah, I think too much of it can cause water intoxication," he replies, without much thought.

Cartman stands up straight and glares at him.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It, like, fucks up your kidneys."

"What?!" he cries. "I can't afford to have a fucked up kidney, thanks to you!"

Kyle glares at him, seething, furious at his inability to prioritise.

"I think a bad kidney is the least of your problems when we're surrounded by nine positive pregnancy tests!"

Cartman sighs, runs a hand over his face. He pauses at his mouth, and Kyle can't help but feel pity and solidarity as he stares into his bewildered eyes.

"Shit..." he murmurs. "Come on, give me the last one."

Cartman reaches his hand out but Kyle ignores him, holding the last box to his chest. This is their last shred of hope, the last indicator of whether they can go on with their lives as normal, live their lives according to plan, or if it has to change altogether. Kyle doesn't want to give that up, he wants to protect it with all he has. He keeps this chance close to his chest and the results will be inconclusive, nothing will be definitive, he can just shove it to the back of his mind until... god, maybe he is going crazy.

"Kyle..." Cartman says, stern but with a quiver of concern. He steps closer. "Give it to me..."

"Why?" Kyle snaps, jumping at the sound of his own voice. His body seizes in defence, and he recoils from Cartman. "I mean, do you have to? It's only going to say it's positive."

The impatience on Cartman's face cracks, surprised, and then slowly understanding what may be happening here.

"Then it's not a big deal if I take it, right?" he asks softly, and it reminds Kyle of when he squeezed his shoulder in the bathroom. How is it that he has to rely on Eric Cartman to keep it together?

"Yes, it is! It's a big fucking deal! You might be pregnant! There might be a fucking baby inside you! No, there is a very good chance there's a baby inside of you! _My_ baby!" His words ring around the bathroom, bouncing off the walls. The echoes are choking him, and he's gasping for breath. "Oh my god... Cartman, I can't-" he smothers the rest of his sentence, buries his head in his hands.

He can hear Cartman take a slow breath through his nose, and he doesn't look up when he sits next to him.

"This is happening, Kyle," he continues speaking in that strange, soft tone. "Not taking that test won't change anything. You said to try all of them, didn't you?"

Kyle nods.

"Then that's what we're going to do," Cartman decides, before plucking the box out of Kyle's fingers.

He gets up to open it, and doesn't look at Kyle. Kyle just watches his back in astonishment and gratitude.

Kyle averts his stare as Cartman takes the test, returning to his default legs jittering, head-in-hands pose. For the first time, Cartman sits next to Kyle as they wait for the result. Kyle steals shy glances of him from under his palms, testing out an apology in his head. Ultimately, he settles for gratitude.

"Thanks..." he mumbles, face burning already.

"For what?" Cartman asks, with a smile in his voice.

Kyle sits up and sighs, placing his hands on his thighs.

"For talking... for snapping me out of..." he shakes his head. "Never mind."

Cartman seems to look to an invisible audience on the other side of the room, both puzzled and amused.

"Um, no problem?"

The last five minute wait is, bizarrely, the most serene. Kyle is confident of the result, and resigned to his fate. _Their_ fate. Their eyes meet when the timer goes off, and Kyle doesn't know if Cartman is looking to him for words of encouragement but he has nothing to say. His eyes just roam Cartman's face, and he gulps. That seems to be enough to prompt Cartman to pick up the test from the bathroom cabinet. Kyle keeps his eyes on him the entire time. He watches him inhale quietly, watches his mouth scrunch up like he doesn't know how he feels about the final result.

"Well?"

"Positive," Cartman murmurs, eyes on the far corner of the room.

Kyle's body droops and he sighs, silently mourning that chance of normal. It was a lost cause anyway. Cartman clutches the corner of the cabinet for balance before sliding to the floor anyway, sitting there in a daze.

"Shit..."

Kyle nods dejectedly.

"Yep."

"Fuck!"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Fucking shit fuck how the fuck did this happen?!" Cartman yells, throwing the test across the room like it will change anything.

"I have no idea," Kyle replies. He runs a hand through his hair and grips it hard as he tries to think of a possible explanation. "I don't even know where I would begin trying to figure this out."

"It couldn't have been..." Cartman looks at him with wide eyes. "You don't think it was the meteor shower, do you?"

Kyle considers it, before ruling it out. It's ridiculous. What would be the correlation? How could it have any effect on them?

"No." He shakes his head. "No, how could it be? It doesn't make any sense."

"Not making sense seems to be the common denominator here though."

"But it does establish a timeline," Kyle points out, shuffling closer. "For like, events that happened around the night we, uh..."

Kyle realises this is the first time he's going to say out loud what they did. He has no idea why he's so shy or feels so awkward when Cartman is literally carrying a reminder of their hook-up inside him.

"Made a baby together?" Cartman says, clearly not reluctant at all. "Inexplicably."

"But that's what I'm saying! There has to be a reason... did you do anything weird before the party?"

Cartman glares at him affronted.

"Why is this my fault?" he snaps.

"I'm not saying it's your fault I'm just trying to get some background! Did you meet somebody? Come into contact with..." Kyle stops when something occurs to him. He lowers his voice. "Were you abducted by aliens again?"

"No!" Cartman snaps, before his face drops. "But..."

"What?" Kyle asks, gripping the edge of the tub so he doesn't land flat on his ass.

Cartman gulps.

"I went to a cult meeting with Kenny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've only just started posting this but next update probably won't be a for a couple of weeks. Mainly, because I have a Christmas oneshot I'm working on, which I hope you can check out too! Also, sorry for taking a little break and ending this chapter on somewhat of a cliffhanger lol Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts! 
> 
> Playlist updated here (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79VcPsp4fY397lvunXPXa7?si=rQhEuJODTRGG5OkDpVvNtA)
> 
> Songs added: 
> 
> Under the Sheets - Ellie Goulding  
> Sugar We're Goin' Down - Fall Out Boy  
> The Negative - Waitress Original Broadway Soundtrack (I had to lol actually you can probably expect a few Waitress songs since pregnancy is a big part of that storyline too)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, playlist can be found here (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79VcPsp4fY397lvunXPXa7?si=YBSLhZyHT3eQ71_IQHAn1g). Something I did while updating my last multi-chapter that was really cool and fun was updating the playlist as the fic goes along. It felt pretty interactive, and also more like a soundtrack to the fic. I hope you like, and songs will be updated as the fic goes along! Thanks again for reading!


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